


Prom 2.0

by Moransroar



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Gay Panic, Getting Together, High School, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, M/M, Prom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:00:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26976256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moransroar/pseuds/Moransroar
Summary: Prom sucked, and Eddie's pretty down about it. Richie thinks he might have an idea on how to fix that.
Relationships: Beverly Marsh & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 10
Kudos: 87





	Prom 2.0

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write a Reddie fic so a friend suggested I write something prom-related and this is what came out of it. This is baby's first Reddie fic so please let me know if you like it! Or maybe drop me some ideas in the comments if you've got any, I'm always open for them 👀

Prom sucked. Prom just absolutely sucked major ass, and that was coming from someone who was drunk through most of it anyway.

Richie didn’t enjoy the majority of it. Eddie and himself had promised each other to go stag after the other losers had all found themselves dates for the evening. At least that way they’d have each other, and wouldn’t have to hang out awkwardly by themselves. And even with each other’s company, it just wasn’t…prom.

Eddie hadn’t been in the best of moods. Whether that was because Richie was off to the bathroom drinking more often than not or because he didn’t have a date and had to watch how all the others couples in their school got to have the most romantic night of the year, Richie didn’t know. He’d never really heard Eddie talk about his interest in girls. Sometimes, that alone made Richie stupidly hopeful that maybe…

But then again maybe not.

While every one of the losers had had at least one date before, or one girlfriend (or boyfriend, of course, in Bev’s case), Richie and Eddie were probably the only ones who hadn’t reeled anyone in yet.

Richie had no excuses, but a good reason. He’d tried liking other people, tried liking girls even, as much as he possibly could, but it did nothing to help the fact that he always somehow found his way back to Eddie, whatever he did or thought or tried to make himself believe.

And Eddie… Maybe Eddie was just going to be single forever, or at least Richie teased him for it. Secretly, Richie was pretty convinced that Eddie was on the verge of having an absolute glow-up, and he just hadn’t had the chance to really strut his stuff yet. But he would. The only downside of that was that Richie wasn’t likely going to get to see it, as they’d probably be off to college while that glow-up actually happened.

Maybe that’s part of the reason why Richie was off to the bathroom sipping from the little flask he’d brought so much.

He didn’t want to think about graduating, and moving away, and never seeing his friends again. They’d all promised to come back the next year for their summer break to spend it together in Derry, but Richie had seen enough movies and read enough comics to know that it usually didn’t work out like that. Once friends separated for college and made new friends wherever they landed, it was over. That was the end of the friendship. They’d soon forget about each other, and Richie dreaded it more than anything.

Their prom night ended with a grumpy Eddie who changed his mind about staying the night at Richie’s, which only made Richie feel worse the morning after. What had he done wrong? Had he said anything while he was drunk, done anything stupid? Had he tried to kiss Eddie? But he couldn’t remember anything like that. He just remembered Eddie’s foul mood throughout the entire night, and could only hope that it wasn’t him.

A few days after prom, and with a little bit of Beverly’s encouragement, Richie decided that this wasn’t what Eddie deserved. He seemed pretty down about prom, would avoid the subject or try to change it any time it came up, or outright walk away from the conversation.

Richie teased him about it, but only a little bit. He could see that it didn’t go down well.

“It’s because he didn’t get to dance with anyone,” Stan suggested quietly once, sparking more insane ideas in Richie’s mind.

If he didn’t get to dance, and that was really what he was being such a butthead about, then Richie could make sure he’d get to have a prom that actually did strike his fancy. So he thought up a plan, and shared it with Bev, who thankfully offered her help. She’d always been a pretty good wingman, being the only one who knew about Richie’s sexual orientation through sheer coincidence – even if it had never actually resulted in anything. After all, Derry really wasn’t the place. Many previous incidents had proved as much. But it was nice to at least be able to talk about boys with someone who understood.

Moreover, she didn’t even try to discourage Richie’s ridiculous idea, even when Richie repeatedly reiterated that it was probably stupid. She thought it would be fun.

So they set up one night, dragging a folding camping table up to the woods, carrying bags of snacks and drinks and lights and radio, to set up someplace far and secluded, near the clubhouse. It was risky, he knew that very well, but there was something so satisfying about the thought that maybe, just maybe, he could make Eddie smile again.

That was all he ever wanted to do, after all. He always wanted to make him smile, whatever the cost, and whatever it asked of him.

Even if Eddie wasn’t going to take this seriously then he hoped that it would at least get a chuckle out of him.

They set up the rickety little table with cans of lukewarm Sprite, a chocolate bar, and a bag of Doritos. Richie had contemplated making ‘punch’, but he doubted that Eddie would appreciate the amount of alcohol he was tempted to put in there. Not to mention that it wasn’t his ultimate goal to get Eddie drunk – far from it. He just wanted him to enjoy himself. And hopefully, this was going to do it.

And if not, then… Well, it wasn’t like Richie had a plan B. So it was this, or nothing.

Beverly turned the radio on but kept the volume low, finding a channel that played something upbeat to keep their spirits up as they decorated their little clearing together, while Richie kept an eye on his watch.

He’d asked Eddie to come to the clubhouse that night, and despite his protest, he had inevitably agreed. It wasn’t often that Eddie didn’t agree on hanging out with Richie if he could help it, anyway. Hopefully tonight, his mother would let him go, or she’d be asleep early so that Eddie could sneak out, because if he didn’t then all of this would have been for nothing.

“He’ll be here,” Bev reassured him when she caught him looking in the direction of which he was sure Eddie would be approaching soon.

Once the battery run lights were up, the snacks were all set out, and they had changed the radio station to something softer, it was just a matter of waiting for Eddie to show up.

And it was fucking nerve wracking.

Beverly made herself scarce with a last couple of words of encouragement, making sure to head in a different direction so that she wouldn’t run into Richie’s guest. Richie didn’t particularly like the thought of her going off on her own through the woods at night, but she said she’d promised to meet Ben anyway, so if anything happened on her way down to his place at least he could raise the alarm.

Not that that was reassuring, but… Richie had more to worry about right now, as it was nearing midnight.

He stood there, by himself, for what felt like ages, before the crunching of leaves in the near distance caught his ear. Richie’s heart was already pounding in his ribcage before anyone could appear, and he prayed that it wasn’t a stranger. Or worse, Bowers.

Moments later, Eddie stepped out into the dim light coming from the string of lights covering a tree, brows furrowing as he took in all of the decorations and everything spread around, until his gaze landed finally on Richie. He must have never looked more nervous than he did at that moment, because Eddie’s frown only deepened.

“What the fuck is this?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Richie swallowed thickly. This was either the best idea he’d ever had, or the worst, and he was moments away from finding out.

“Uh. It’s prom. 2.0,” he explained. Eddie looked around again, then walked over to the table and inspected the contents. Neither Richie nor Bev had thought to bring bowls for the snacks, so Richie had kind of rolled up the bag of Doritos to bring the chips closer to the surface, and he’d unwrapped the chocolate bar. Fuck, he realized – he didn’t bring any glasses either. Not even plastic cups. He should have thought this through way better.

“Why? Wasn’t the first prom enough of an embarrassment already?”

Richie tried not to wince, although he couldn’t help but pull a face.

“No! I mean yes, that’s why I’m hosting prom 2.0. So that it won’t suck ass this time, but it’ll actually be…fun.” He gave a small shrug when Eddie looked over to him.

“Where are the other guests?” Eddie asked.

“Didn’t invite anyone,” Richie responded. When Eddie was quiet for a moment too long for his comfort, he quickly added, “I was tempted to ask out your mom but I figured she’d probably be busy.”

“Richie!”

Even from where Richie is standing he can see the quirk around Eddie’s mouth despite his chastising tone.

“So how’s this a better prom than our actual prom?” Eddie asked, “There’s no people, we’re outside in the middle of nowhere, I’m not even wearing the right clothes.”

Richie swallowed. It felt like Eddie was about to turn and walk away, wave away Richie’s effort and suggest they hang out in the clubhouse – not because he wasn’t grateful, but because he didn’t understand. So somehow, Richie had to help him understand, and he had to do so quickly, but despite his best efforts all that came out was a stupid, lame half-excuse, that couldn’t, shouldn’t, have convinced Eddie to stick around. And yet…

“Because…you get to dance with me.”

Eddie was quiet for a minute, and Richie was convinced he was doomed, until the other boy dropped his arms out of their crossed state as if he was giving in, though he sounded much less reluctant than he looked.

“Okay,” he answered simply, and strode forward through the dead leaves between them, crossing over to where Richie was standing, and put out a hand, “Sounds fair.”

That…had definitely gone easier than Richie could ever have hoped for. But now it was a matter of putting his money where his mouth was, and actually going ahead to give Eddie that unforgettable prom that he had promised himself he’d give him. Starting, of course, with a dance. Not that Richie was good at dancing.

“Alright Eds,” Richie teased as he slowly took the offered hand because he couldn’t come up with something else he could do at that moment, “Get ready for some Fred Astaire type moves. Do try to keep up.”

“Whatever you say, numbnuts.”

Eddie chuckled, and Richie’s heart surged. It was positively and definitely unfair that Eddie always managed to have that kind of an impact on him. Immediately, Richie had sweaty palms - which he desperately hoped Eddie wouldn’t notice where his hand now lay in his – his knees were weak beneath him and his tongue dried up inside his mouth. Convenient, that, when you were trying not to allow silence to fall between yourself and your dance partner for fear that it would become awkward if you were this close and didn’t have anything to say or a joke to crack.

Richie pulled Eddie closer by the hand, and awkwardly put his other arm around the other boy’s waist, holding him at what he deemed to be a safe distance – and yet it felt a little weird.

“What are you doing?” Eddie asked him when he saw the pained look on Richie’s face.

“Dancing?”

“What? That’s not—just—” Eddie let out a frustrated little huff and practically yanked Richie closer at the front of his buttoned shirt until they were practically chest-to-chest and Eddie could put both hands on Richie’s hips. Richie’s hands only fell to Eddie’s shoulders when the other boy directed him to _put your damn hands on my shoulders, dumbass, I’m not reaching up,_ although he couldn’t relax out of the stiff posture he’d suddenly taken on because _holy fucking shit_. Eddie was touching his waist.

Eddie was touching his waist, and they were standing so fucking close, and Eddie smelled so nice, and the song was slow and sweet and Richie’s throat had closed up long ago but he couldn’t imagine a place he’d rather be than right there at that very moment.

“Richie?” Eddie asked, his voice suddenly soft.

Richie realized he’d just been staring down at him with wide eyes, and he quietly cleared his throat and blinked the dryness out of his eyes.

“Yeah?” he all but whispered back.

“We’re not dancing.”

Richie’s eyes narrowed for a second, before he realized quickly that they hadn’t set a single step since Eddie had pulled him in. Right. They were supposed to be dancing, not standing still staring at each other while listening to sickeningly romantic music – which, honestly? Richie was surprised Eddie hadn’t commented on that yet.

So Richie took a tentative step and Eddie followed. And then when he took another, Eddie followed again. Slowly but surely, they started to sway from side to side, taking little steps through the crunchy leaves below, until their shuffling was closer to dancing than it was to anything else.

Meanwhile, Richie’s mind was full, and his heart was bursting, and when he hadn’t said even a single word or made a single joke in over a minute, he could no longer physically stop himself from something bubbling up in his throat.

“You look nice,” he blurted out, and winced when Eddie snorted out a laugh.

“I’m wearing my normal clothes, Richie.”

“Yeah,” Richie said quickly to right his wrong, “But—still nice. Can’t I give you a compliment?”

“What, like I’m your date?”

Richie dropped his hands from Eddie’s shoulders to the other boy’s hands to push them down and step away. Eddie’s tone of voice hadn’t been accusatory, but something about it still made Richie almost sure that he thought all of this was weird. He must have thought it was weird, and that was the last thing Richie wanted. “You’re right. This is stupid. Let’s just pack this shit up and go to the clubhouse.”

“What?” Eddie protested in surprise, and followed Richie when he stomped over to the snack table and started stacking the cans of Sprite, “No, Rich—we can’t stop now, we only just got started.”

“Yeah well it’s lame. And I should have known you’d think it’s lame. Shouldn’t’ve… I just wanted you to have an actually nice prom but I shouldn’t have asked you to dance. Guys don’t dance with other guys.”

“Unless they’re boyfriends.”

Richie froze and whipped his head around to look at Eddie standing next to him. Had he heard that correctly? Did he just mention boyfriends, like he knew exactly what it was that Richie was after, even though he’d be satisfied with just getting to dance with a guy he’d already accepted he was never going to really have? Eddie looked appropriately flustered, face slowly tinging red even in the low light, so he had to have said it.

“But we’re not boyfriends…” Richie murmured.

Eddie made a face as if he was about to say something but then changed his mind, and gave a sheepish grimace instead. “I know,” he mumbled back, and let out a sigh that made him look particularly defeated in a way that tugged at Richie’s heart strings. “It’s fine. We can pack this up and go to the clubhouse. We’re here anyway.” He reached for the bag of Doritos to start folding it closed.

“Do you want to be my boyfriend?” Richie blurted out, still looking at him.

Eddie looked back and visibly hesitated.

“Do you want to be _my_ boyfriend?” He asked.

“I asked you first.”

“I asked you second!”

They both fell quiet, but their standoff didn’t last long. It was Eddie who gathered the courage to break the silence and speak first, putting down the bag in his hands.

“Prom sucked because I couldn’t go with you.”

Richie frowned, “But we did go together, man. I was with you practically the whole night!”

Eddie looked away, down at his hands, “You know that’s not what I mean.”

The thought that Eddie would have wanted to go with Richie to prom, as his date, was foreign. It had always been Richie to think things like that, it had always been him imagining and dreaming about asking Eddie out, and taking Eddie places, and kissing Eddie and holding Eddie and spending time with Eddie. It had never crossed his mind that maybe it was Eddie who wanted all of these things, too, and assumed that it was Richie who didn’t.

Unbelievably, it seemed they had been in the same boat all along.

“So,” Eddie continued when Richie was too dumbstruck to speak, “This is nice. Our own prom. No stupid kissing couples. No chaperones. No kids hurling in the bathrooms because they thought it was a good idea to bring vodka even though they’ve never had it before.”

Richie snickered, and Eddie snickered in response to Richie’s laugh.

“I’ll take this prom over any of the school’s proms any day, Richie.”

By now, Richie could have melted into a puddle on the ground, and he would have happily let the earth soak him up. Not out of embarrassment for a change, which was definitely an upgrade. Before he could help himself, he was reaching across and pulling Eddie in to his chest, arms wrapped around him in a firm but gentle hug. He sighed when he could feel Eddie’s arms automatically snake around his back in response, happy as a clam. No, happier.

“I’m glad I didn’t invite your mom,” Richie hummed against Eddie’s shoulder where he tucked his face into the crook. Before Eddie could protest or call him gross, however, he quickly added, “Not to play favorites but I definitely prefer you to her. Even if your tits are in the wrong place.”

“Beep beep, Richie,” Eddie murmured, voice muffled by the front of Richie’s shirt. “Think you can do that?”

Richie made a questioning noise.

“Keep your mouth shut, I mean. For five minutes.”

Richie pursed his lips together to try and hide his smile, but it sounded through in his voice when he spoke. “Only one way to find out, Spagheds.”

Eddie pulled back, gave a huff because there was undoubtedly a lot that he wanted to say right now, but he opted for the right approach. An approach that would prove much more effective with keeping Richie quiet in the long run, and an approach that the other Losers were definitely going to get sick of after a while, useful as it may be. But also one that Richie definitely did not mind. Oh no. Quite the contrary.

Richie grinned, and Eddie rolled his eyes – but nothing stopped him to lean up and gently fit their lips together in their first ever kiss. And for once, Richie was sufficiently silenced, and stayed so for quite a while.


End file.
